On My Own
by George Stark II
Summary: Songfic to "On My Own" from "Les Mis," House/Wilson slash.


**Summary: **Songfic to "On My Own" from "Les Mis," House/Wilson slash (sort of).

**A/N:** This would take place between 7.20 "Baggage" and 7.21 "Help Me".

**Disclaimer: **House, Wilson, and Sam do not belong to me, they belong to David Shore. I wish House and Wilson belonged to me, but David Shore can keep Sam, I don't want her. The song lyrics in italics do not belong to me, they are from the musical "Les Miserables" and belong to Alain Boubill and Herbert Kretzmer (according to Wikipedia).

On My Own

_On my own, pretending he's beside me  
__All alone I walk with him till morning  
__Without him I feel his arms around me  
__And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me_

House's fingers danced across the keys of the organ Wilson had given him. It was truly the best gift he'd ever received from someone, and the fact that it came from Wilson...the man he loved...truly...it meant more to him than he could possibly describe. He couldn't play something on this magical instrument and not play it for Wilson, his Wilson...

"Greg?" this man's voice came from somewhere behind him.

His fingers left the keys as he turned to face him, to smile at him, to see his Wilson's beautiful smile in return.

"Come to bed," Wilson requested.

_In the rain the pavement shines like silver  
__All the lights are misty in the river  
__In the darkness the trees are full of starlight  
__And all I see is him and me forever and forever_

House did not respond verbally, but he stood up, rising slowly from the piano bench to meet his Wilson and envelop him in his arms. They kissed—he marvelled at the feeling of his Wilson's lips beneath his, his soft warm tongue, tasting of toothpaste because it was nighttime and he'd already brushed his teeth...

His hands clasped his Wilson's as they made their way to the bedroom. Soft kisses...gentle touches, caresses...love. His Wilson fell asleep in his arms.

...

House woke up in his bed, alone. He was in his apartment. He couldn't even tell if he'd dreamed of Wilson again or just fantasised about him before bed like he did every night...every waking moment...

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. He tasted toothpaste, having just brushed his teeth, but the minty freshness just felt cold and synthetic compared to last night...

_And I know it's only in mind  
__And that I'm talking to myself and not to him  
__And although I know that he is blind  
__Still I say there's a way for us_

It wasn't all fantasy. Wilson _had _given him that wonderful organ, its music so vibrant, its feel so alive beneath his fingers. And he _knew_ Wilson loved him. The fact that he bought the organ in the first place, and the way...the way he and James had looked at each other across the room...That was love, he knew it, it was almost tangible in the air between them. He could feel it. He could feel it every day, in chest, sometimes making him feel light enough to float, other times making his heart so heavy he thought he might drown...

"Sam...likes you..."

"But she wants me to move out."

"No. I want you to move out."

Unrequited? Or just denied?

The why made little difference; the result was the same. Whether he loved him or not, Wilson did _not_ want him.

House tried not to think about that as he went to work, went through his day. _Tried_ being the operative word. How could he not think of Wilson when his thoughts, his _love _for the man consumed him like they did?

He_ had_ to be with Wilson, preferably in person, not just imagination.

They only saw each other at work now, now that Sam had taken over. When Amber had been the woman in his life, House had been able to reach a custody agreement with her, splitting their time with the man they both adored. As much as the two of them disliked each other, they'd at least respected Wilson's need to have the other in his life.

House knew he'd have no such luck with Sam.

_I love him  
__But when the night is over  
__He is gone, the river's just a river  
__Without him, the world around me changes  
__The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers_

House didn't take his lunches with Wilson for granted. It was time...the only time, really...now...that he could be with his love just to be with him. To talk about nonsense of little or no importance, everyday conversations quickly forgotten that kept their friendship alive.

They hadn't gone down together, but there Wilson was, at their usual table. His fries sat on his plate, waiting for House, almost as tantalising as the man who'd purchased them...

House made his way to the table, eyes fixated on the object of his desire that would never know, _refused_ to know, the depth of the older man's feelings for him. Wilson hadn't seen him yet, but he hadn't started eating, either. They did this almost every day. He knew he was having company...

But no...

House's stomach swooped as he saw Wilson rise and greet someone else...a woman with curly blonde hair who was carrying her own lunch. They kissed for a moment before she sat down...

Wilson had been planning on company for lunch...just not House.

_I love him  
__But every day I'm learning  
__All my life I've only been pretending  
__Without me his world will go on turning  
__A world that's full of happiness that I have never known_

He hadn't talked to Wilson all day. Because his patient hadn't showed any signs indicating cancer. And what else was there to talk about between them? What else was there to say?

House's fingers danced across the keys as he closed his eyes and let the sound fill the room...his left hand kept playing as his right hand reached for the glass of scotch on top of his piano...

_I love him  
__I love him  
__I love him...  
__...But only on my own_


End file.
